The Reigning Heir
by Jaina.Jedi.Girl
Summary: This is part of my Disney Princess Mothers line. This is about Snow White and Prince Charming's first child, Delia. PLEASE review!
1. Chapter 1: Delia

I was inspired by the story Child here on fanfic. So, here's MY story, and no offense to the author of that!

Disclaimer: I do not own any Disney characters, though you probably figured that out. This is, if you didn't read the summary, Snow White's story, and is the first of six for each princess! I'm guessing each story will have about ten chapters or so, but it may change. Oh! And I named the prince Char (no offense to Gail Carson Levine!) because I couldn't think of anything else.

SNOW WHITE'S POV

"My dear princess," said Char, entwining his fingers with mine.

"Mhmm?" I murmured, yawning.

"I love you," he said, kissing my neck. I giggled softly.

"And Delia?" he asked, watching me sit up.

"Fine; I suppose she's still sleeping," I said, referring to our one-week old newborn, Princess Delia Katharein Juliana Fran Van Dijk Luthekaima. I had put her to bed last night, and had insisted that I take care of her fully, like a true mother should. My mother, Juliana, had dismissed my nurse several times in order to take care of me herself.

Char and I took turns taking care of our dear little Delia; last night was my turn. I never felt disobliged to hug and kiss her, and cuddle her and feed her; I was her mother, after all.

"Let's go see her," said Char. He missed her deeply whenever he was let to go and sleep, but gratified that he was given the opportunity to rest.

He jumped up quickly, and sped off to his daughter's room. I laughed as he reentered the room and put on his robe, then left again.

I took my time putting on my dressing gown, and when I went down the hall towards Delia's nursery, I found Char completely engrossed in her little cooing.

"She's as beautiful as you are, my love," he whispered. I smiled, and watched over the little pink basinet.

"Excuse me, you're Highnesses, but the King would like a word with the both of you," announced a young servant-boy named Jace. I had gotten to know the young boy over the past two years that I had lived in the castle.

At first, I was quite surprised that such a young boy could work so diligently. Jace was merely five, but he spoke clearly and persistently, and acted very mature around Char and I. However, I knew that around his friends, who were also servants' children and resided in the castle, Jace was hyper and silly.

"Thank you, sir. We shall be there shortly," said Char, not taking his eyes off Delia.

"Not to worry, Son, I am already here."

Char turned his body, but it took him a good few slow moments to take his eyes off Delia.

"Father; I did not know you were present. Thank you, Jace, you may go," said Char. I smiled at my father-in-law, who was as much a father to me as I could ever dream.

"Now, Char, I have news for you and your wife. I do not know how you will take it, but—"

King Wilmer shut the door behind him, and wobbled closer to the basinet we were huddled over.

"—I do know that you _won't_ like it."


	2. Chapter 2: The Letter, Mob, & Forest

Hello again

Hello again! Disclaimer: I do not own any Disney characters.

SNOW WHITE'S POV

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"My dear Snow White; I have been sent a letter from an anonymous civilian. It says he plans to kidnap Delia, and raise her as his own. However, he may be lying, and this is what we must make sure of," said Wilmer, twiddling his chubby fingers.

The squat man was only five feet tall, and he was very plump at that. He reminded me of King Henry VIII, but I never spoke of this. It was too impolite.

"Why that is terrible!" I shrieked. Delia began to cry, and Char immediately picked her up. He cradled her, and sat down in the rocking chair my dear friends the dwarfs and given me. Slowly, Delia began to calm down.

"Yes, my dear daughter-in-law. What should we do; I thought I'd ask you, as you two are the parents," said Wilmer hesitantly. I looked at my husband for guidance.

"I think that we shall put guards at her windows and guards at her doors. Bars will be on the windows anyhow, and a gate shall be installed on the entry of her room."

"Oh, Char, please. She can't be imprisoned in her own little room! She's a baby. I can keep her with me at all times, and our most trusted guards can keep watch. We won't go outside. And even if we do, she'll be protected. I can't let her grow up a jailbird!" I cried, rushing over to my daughter. She was asleep, her small thumb tucked into her mouth. I smiled.

"Yes, Char, I think your wife's idea is the best."

"But—"

I gave my husband a stern look, and he immediately fell silent.

"I love you, and I suppose because of this fact I'll do what you say," said Char, smiling. He kissed me on the cheek and put Delia back in her basinet.

"Good. It shall be put into action this instant. And—", began Wilmer, waddling over to open the French doors, "—here is that blasted letter."

Char snatched it from his father's chunky hand, and began reading it immediately aloud. Quietly, Wilmer left the room and closed the doors behind him.

"Dear King Wilmer and Queen Haley," he read.

"It is in my knowledge that your son, Char, has fathered a baby girl, Delia Katharein Juliana Fran. Nothing will stop me from saying, congratulations. The mother, Princess Snow White, I assume is doing fine. But, she and her husband will not be for long. I have longed for a child of my own for a year; I am but eighteen. And, my husband has left me for an older woman, and I am mourning his presence still. I will, at all costs, kidnap the new Princess of Sweden, and will do everything I can to attain her. I will not fail, I guarantee you, and will raise her as my own. The parents may have another child that I will not attempt to take, but please—as a kind and humble peasant woman—allow me to keep little Delia. Sincerely,", and the letter ended there. No one had signed it, no one at all.

"Oh, why that is terrible! Our dear little Delia!" I cried, rushing over to the little one. I scooped her up, and cradled her. I never wanted to leave her, especially unattended.

"Why anyone could have taken her this morning! We're terribly lucky," said Char, watching his daughter coo.

"I think my plan will work, Char. No one could take her if I was always with her, holding her and caring for her. I'll never leave her ever. Not even at night, when she goes to sleep. I'll hold her then, too. And no nurses!"

Just then, three guards walked through the doors. Behind them, Jace and his elder brother, Cam were walking proudly.

"Good morning, your Highnesses. These are the guards that are to keep watch over you and protect you until this woman is found. Tyro, Maac, and Lakehurst are their names," said Cam. Jace was standing on his tippy-toes, and stretching his neck out.

"Why, Jace, what are you doing?" I asked kindly.

"Where is the baby?" he asked. I laughed, and Char chuckled, but Cam smacked him on the back of his head.

"Don't forget your place, Jace."

"Ha-ha! That rhymed!" said Jace. This was the start of a sillier, happy Jace that I knew was normally not around.

"Shut up, pinhead. Beg your pardon, Princess, Prince. He is the most unintelligent," said Cam, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, we're fine with that. Here, come along, Jace—Cam. I'll show you her."

The two boys bounded over to the basinet, but Cam stopped halfway.

"What is it, Cam?" asked Char.

"Well…I'm sixteen, and…I fancy Luciana, a nursemaid. She likes mature men, see, and…it won't be very mature of me to get all keyed up over a baby. A girl one at that, your Highness," said Cam, bowing. Char laughed.

"I shall let Luciana know you are quite mature. Now, come and see little darling Delia," I said, ushering him over. He melted at the sight.

"She looks just like you, ma'am. I mean—your Highness," said Cam, slapping his wrist.

"Oh, Cam, please—call me Snow White. It's my name, after all. And you may do the same for my husband and Delia," I said, smiling. Cam grinned.

"Your Highnesses, please! Someone has entered the castle! Many people, actually! It's a mob, and they are searching everywhere for little Delia!" cried a servant who entered the room. Char acted quickly and ushered the two boys out of the room.

"If you are found here, they will take you in for questioning! Now _GO_!" roared Char, and he shut the doors.

"Quick, Lakehurst, give me your sword!" he demanded, and Lakehurst did not disobey. I quickly picked up Delia, quieted her crying, and waited for Char's instructions.

Char slid the sword in-between the two doors' handles, locking them together. On top of that, he locked it regularly.

"You three, climb down this rope!" said Char, cutting a rope from a tapestry. Tyro, Maac, and Lakehurst did not fail to contravene.

"Hurry, be quick. And be ready to catch Snow White."

They were on the ground in no more than two seconds, for they jumped halfway down. I slid my body over the windowsill, and Char nodded.

"You will be safe. I will bring Delia down. Go!"

I jumped, and Maac caught me safely. I was put on the ground as the guards got ready to catch Char and my daughter…

Char jumped, holding Delia with all of his might, and Tyro caught him and Delia safely. I gasped as I took Delia in my arms.

"Let's run! Hurry! I know of just the place! Keep up with me!" I cried, and took off into the heart of the forest. Char stopped me.

"Wait, my dear Princess. Lakehurst went back to fetch us some horses."

"Can he be trusted?" I asked.

"We hope so."


	3. Chapter 3: Gone, For Now

Please review! I'd like to know how I'm doing! So, this is the third chapter of The Reigning Heir. I hope you guys like it, and since I have 67 hits and counting, I suppose I've done alright. But I'd still like to know! Also, on other-yet-still-the-same matters, I think, even though they aren't technically "Disney Princesses", I'd like to add them to the Disney Mothers line. Who are they? Jane Porter from Tarzan; Mulan from, well, Mulan; Giselle from Enchanted (Disney didn't want to buy Amy Adams' resemblance or something like that so she isn't a princess); and possibly (from Robin Hood's POV) Maid Marian.

Even though when I was little I wanted to name my brother Kokoam (or, however they spell his name) when he was born and wanted to be Pocahontas when I grew up, I'm not loving the idea of giving Pocahontas a Disney Mothers story. I am NOT racist, if that's what you're thinking, because my own mother is half Native American, but knowing historically Pocahontas dies during her son's lifetime and that she carries not John Smith's child but (what's his name? John Ralph? Let's call him Mr. X…or is it Y? I'm all mixed up today) Mr. X's, I don't think the story is gonna happen. Perhaps a poem or drabble? However, if you really want Pocahontas, then I'll turn my frown upside down and get her story out as soon as possible. However, I think before I do a story/drabble/poem for Pocahontas, I'll have to do some research. Oh well—if you guys want it, let me know at my email

and I'll do it anyway—because I love you. ;)

This is Reigning Heir: Chapter Three, Untitled

And the name has nothing to do with the story, it's just because I couldn't think of a proper name for this chapter.

HERE WE GO!!

"He's gone! Lakehurst, gone! Run, you two, go! Maac and I will go and fetch some horses and go in two different directions. We'll try and find you; go, wherever it is you are going, and run!" bellowed Tyro. He had left to see if indeed Lakehurst had betrayed us. Waiting in a hollow tree, we had waited with Maac for not two minutes. Char, my wonderful and quick-witted husband, had ushered us into a hollow Oak and snuck in with us. His sword had been drawn.

It had been a blur, this morning. In fact, it didn't seem like I had woken up. I looked down at little Delia, watching her sleep peacefully. Why anyone would want to take her was obvious: she was beautiful, even for a babe. She had a tuft of silky, dark brown hair so that it was almost black. Her skin was not as fair as mine, but lighter than Char's. She had small, delicate hands, and a button nose. It almost reminded me of when Ian, Jace and Cam's eleven-month-old brother, was born in the castle.

Char took my hand and kissed it.

"Take us to wherever it is my sweet songbird. Away from this malady," said Char calmly. I swallowed.

I nodded, and gave Char Delia.

Crawling backwards, I reached the outside of the hollow tree, where the morning and ceased to disappear. Char crawled out next, Delia clutched to his chest.

"Let's make haste, Snow White," he said, just as calmly as before. I took his strong hand and walked in the direction I had formerly.

"We've arrived," I said, my eyes warming up to the sight of a small yet beautiful, marble cottage. The Seven Dwarfs lived here, and after I had become wife to Char, I had given them more capital to fix up their little dollhouse.

At around four o'clock in the afternoon, both Maac and Tyro had found us. They said that once they had lost the horde, they found each other and continued on the path I had attempted to take at the very start of this horrific event. Two horses was all they could manage without attracting attention to our real destination's conduit, so while Maac and Tyro took turns riding a gray horse named Strider, Char, Delia and I rode on a black horse named Genevieve.

It was nightfall, presently; Delia had slept half the trip.

"Well, are you sure they're home?" asked Tyro.

"Why yes, of course! Don't you know anything about homes?" I replied.

"Well, I grew up in poverty, Princess."

"Oh! That's terrible! Of course you are happy, now, aren't you Sir Tyro?" I asked innocently.

"Honestly, and no offense to your Majesties, but…I'd rather be higher. I'm but a guard, I'm no knight. Neither is Maac, here. We're simple guards, trying to make ends meet, but we're patriotic, so we _want _to protect you, the Majesties of Sweden."

"But you're a father?" I asked curiously. Char hopped off Genevieve, and took Delia from me. Maac, who had been walking, escorted Char to the front door of the cottage while Tyro and I waited in the darkness.

"Oh, yes, Princess. I has ten children, see. Kairi, Kylie, Kayla, Karana, Karen, Kilo, Kirk, Kayak, Kroc, and Koran are their names: five girls born separately, but see Kilo, Kirk, Kayak, Kroc, and Koran are quintuplets."

"Oh how lovely. You're a lucky one, Tyro. Oh how I'd love to have another baby. But perhaps when Delia's three shall Char and I have another one. And how wonderful they must think of you; what is your wife's name?" I asked humbly.

"Kaya Karneilie, Your Majesty," he said feebly. "See, we wanted all of our children to have names with a 'K', because we both have 'K' letter names. We mixed up all of her name to create our daughters' names, and all of my letters in my name to create the boys' names."

"Your name is not Tyro?" I asked. Char, at that moment, came from the little dollhouse and said that the dwarfs were home. He helped me down from Genevieve while Tyro helped himself down.

"No, your Majesty. It's in fact Kroirk Kayroan Tyro, Princess. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll tie up the horses."

I entered the little cottage excitedly, for I was desperate to see my old saviors. I was first greeted by Dopey and Grumpy, then Doc, Sneezy, Sleepy, Happy, and Bashful. They were thrilled I had come for the first time to their happy abode with Baby Delia.

"Why isn't it my old friends," I said.

They smiled and bowed in unison.

"We've finished just morning…uh…finished we've morning just….no, that can't be—"

"Oh, we've just finished painting a crib we made Delia. We was gonna bring it over this evenin', but you've come this evenin'!" laughed Happy.

I laughed, Char holding my waist.

"Where is Delia?" I questioned.

"Oh, she's in the livin' room with that Maac."

I, with Char, rushed to Delia, and watched her as she lay in a beautiful wooden and glass basinet. It was more beautiful than the one Wilmer had given her as a present when she had been born but a week ago. Though that one was made of various shades of pink silk and was encrusted with opals, this one was crystal glass, the inside lined with white cotton and silk with light pink wool. It rocked back and forth slowly, and I noticed the rockers were also lined with light pink wool. And, when a sparkle touched my eyes, I noticed that sapphires encrusted the glass, forming the sparkling eyes of engraved squirrels, butterflies, sparrows, chickadees, deer, and bunny rabbits.

"It's…wonderful! Beautiful! How did you?" exclaimed Char.

"Well, we work in a diamond mine, Prince. That's how we got the sapphires. And glass is common in the mines, too, so we just weaved wool and cotton and bought silk from the market. That was all," said Grumpy. Dopey nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh, yeah. Dopey made the animals."

"Oh, Dopey, thank you," I said. The sight of little Delia in that beautiful, palace-like crib was beyond words. Never had I seen such a beautiful thing.

I smiled warmly, and thanked the dwarfs for their kindness.

"Now, tell us, here you what're doin', I mean—what're you doin here, at this late hour?" asked Doc.

"Well, you see, we've traveled many miles. But this is so because an anonymous woman of Sweden has sent us a letter saying she would successfully kidnap our little baby Princess Delia. It seemed like moments after we read the letter were we given guards Lakehurst, Tyro, and Maac—Lakehurst betrayed us, or was merely a coward and ran away from his duties—that a mob entered the castle and was searching for Delia. Snow White immediately wanted to come here for protection, and we followed suit. Therefore, we ask that you will lend us more of your kindness and hospitality so that we may ask of you only this: that you will help us in protecting Delia from this wretched hijacker and let us stay here. Or at least, protect her from this mental civilian," said Char gallantly.

It was as though an earthquake's epicenter had formed in the cottage. All dwarves shouted that they'd be too willing to help us in our time of need. It was Doc, however, that silenced them after he had yelled out his readiness. It was also at this moment that Tyro returned and stood next to Maac.

"Alright, alright, alright men; that's enough; we'd be happy, Snow White, but won't King Wilmer send out a search party to look for his son and daughter-in-law? It would be a much better idea if you were to return, in separate directions, with these humble guards protecting you, to the castle in Sweden and say Delia is in good hands? You'd travel South and North, then travel oppositely, then head East towards Sweden to the castle."

"That is good sense, Doc. It shall be put into action in the morning," said Char.

"The morning—but little Delia! She can't be without a mother. She's but a week old," I said.

"Yes, but she won't be a daughter to us either, if she is kidnapped by this woman of whom we have been speaking of, and this way we can still track down the mob's leader and protect Delia. When it is safe for her return, we shall bring her back to Sweden."

"Oh…well I…I su—suppose if it's best," I agreed grudgingly. I watched Delia sleep soundly.

"I know they would take good care of her," I added. The dwarves nodded.

"At least, let us both—Char and I—take care of Delia tonight."

Char nodded once, and the sentries left to stand guard at the entrance of the cottage, leaving us with the baby. The dwarves left to the kitchen, Dopey pointing upstairs before he left.

"I suppose we'll need to bring her upstairs."

"Yes."

I took her from the basinet, and char picked up the sleeping palace carefully.

"Oh. But I'd hate to leave her," I said quietly. It was midnight.

"Yes, but dear, we have to. It's in her best interest."

"I know, but…when will it be safe?" I asked.

"We don't know."

"Then will they tell her of our existence?"

"Of course. They are intelligent."

"Will she hate us terribly if she lives here past the age of five? What will she do, think, write? What will we do without her?" I pleaded. The dwarves had kindly decided to sleep in the living room tonight. The guards were standing watch at the foot of the stairs.

"Do not worry for it shan't happen," said Char.

"Very well then," I said hoarsely. I was feeding Delia now. She was awake, but hadn't made a sound. I noticed at times like these that her eyes changed color. They transferred from deep blue, to black, to dark brown. All the same, she certainly looked like she could never hate a person. She looked…like a princess.

Morning was hard for me. Luckily, Delia wasn't awake. I had left her in her crib, with Dopey and Grumpy, while Tyro and Char saddled up and Maac and I were ready to leave first. I blew a kiss to her window, and had said goodbye to my dear friends. With one "Hyah!" by Maac, we were off in a Southwards direction.

"Farewell!" everyone cried. I bit back my lip to keep it from trembling; I blew a kiss to Char, with half of my heart with him—the other half with Delia—beating vigorously with an equal amount of love and worry.


	4. Chapter 4

The Reigning Heir: Part IV

We reached the Denmark Castle in what seemed like forever's time. My mind had been with Delia and with Char. Had Delia cried for me or Char? Had Char run into any trouble on his way back home? Had the Dwarves left Delia alone at any time, so that if she were terrified already she would be even more so terrified? My head spun with questions. Tears escaped soundlessly and stained my white skin. I missed both my true loves. Char and Delia, Delia and Char…

Char and I had fallen asleep (or rather, laid in bed in our nightclothes awake, listening to each other's heartbeats) in each other's arms that night; neither of us had run into anyone or anything; and the mob had since dispersed, and seemingly settled back into their homes. The culprit behind the mob and the letter hadn't been found. Had Delia?

"Char," I said around three in the morning.

"Yes, love?"

"I love you. And no matter what happens, to Delia or us in the process of protecting her…I'll always love you. And Denmark," I added.

"Of course. But I've been thinking. What if…what if, when this was all over and we got our daughter back—which is now my highest priority—I refused the throne? What if we moved somewhere like England, or perhaps Spain or France or Belgium, and we raised our daughter in peace—assuming of course that she was returned to us when she was still an infant or at the very least a toddler—without all this fuss from our kingdom?"

I considered this, as much as I could.

"I…that wouldn't be good for Denmark. What's more, only you would be proper in ruling it."

"But what if you weren't biased and I asked you this, and you were perhaps a commoner or vizier?"

"Then I'd still say the same thing," I said after several moments' time.

"How I miss Delia!" Char sighed.

"I know. I know," I said, kissing his cheek. Tears fell down my cheek once again and into the blankets. I prayed that she would be safe and would come home, to her mama, as soon as possible….

"But it's _my turn_!" Grumpy growled.

"You'll get it, you will!" said Doc.

Delia had the Dwarves wrapped around her tiny little newborn fingers, long and elegant as a princess's should be. She had inherited Char's hair color: it was in-between dark and milk chocolate. It fell in gentle curls to her ears. Her eyes were Snow White's: medium brown and they had specks of butterscotch. Her skin was a fair cream, with dewy pink patches on her cheeks. Her lips, redder than the rose itself, was Snow White's. Her eyes were round like her mother's; her lips full like Snow White's too. Her nose was prominent, like her father's, but small with soft angles like her mother's. Her eyelashes were long and slightly curled upward, and her eyebrows were ebony black, thin as though someone had drawn them on her delicate face.

"I suppose she misses her mama," Sleepy whispered, yawning.

"Yep; and I suppose the princess misses her too. And I suppose the prince misses her thirdly! But it's our job to keep her safe. No messin' up like we did with 'er mother," said Doc.

"As long as she's happy!" said Happy.

And for now, Delia was. She was very mature for a two-week old infant. She didn't cry except when she was hungry. She loved being held, and though in a new environment slept soundly and long.

"_Well_?" King Wilmer shouted.

"The—the baby is in unknown whereabouts."

"Char? Snow White?"

"They returned to Denmark Castle ten hours previous."

"Without Delia."

"Obviously."

"YAH!" Wilmer cried, and with that the Messenger was decapitated. "Clean this up. NOW," said Wilmer, snapping his stubby fat fingers at the nearest guard, Mattok.

"We will get my son to marry Princess Elvira. Snow White was my enemy's daughter," Wilmer said, more to himself than to those servants in the room. "And though she is beautiful and has produced a little heir, Elvira is the ticket to a larger kingdom. Snow White and Delia will die. That is the only way."


End file.
